Anyway. Just sos you know whos who. In the JJ corner we have his ex, Lizzie, and his mate Ed, who used to be in his crappy band with him.

No. I can use them up. Ummm… An everlasting supply of blow, maybe? And, I dunno… Oooh. I wouldnt mind being able to play the piano, I suppose.

Yeah, but after that, said Jess.

Indeed.

So how do you know him? I cant imagine you go to the same nightclubs.

I dont know this for sure, and Im not being all self-pitiful or whatever.

Martin stared at Jess.

Yes, weve got troubles, I said. But theyre all different troubles.

Yeah, well that was never going to happen, said Jess. Because you couldnt keep your prick in your trousers. Sorry, Maureen.

Martin continued to sip his coffee.

And thus we moved on, to a discussion about the appropriate punishment for our exes, whether death was too good for them and so on, and the Lizzie moment passed, like so many moments in those days, without us noticing. But it was in there, if wed wanted to rootle around in the rubbish-strewn teenage bedroom of Jesss mind.

I nodded. I knew.

Martin looked at her.

Jess looked at me. You just said that.

May I ask, then, in what way it could be described as substantial? Well. You know. It has substance.

Whats that word again? The prick one? Sorry, Maureen.

Why? I said. What for? I dont know. Whatever. Just for a laugh. And well learn things, wont we? About each other? And about ourselves? There she went again, with her happy endings. It was true that I had learned things about the others, but I had learned absolutely nothing that wasnt factual. So I could tell Ed the name of the band that he used to play in, and I could tell the Crichtons the name of their missing daughter; it seemed to me unlikely that they would find this in any way useful or even comforting, however.

One afternoon, when Maureen said that she had to get back to see Matty, Jess stifled a giggle and observed enigmatically that shed see him soon enough.

Stephen and Sean and I watched the others for a few moments, to see how they were getting on. JJ was doing the best, because he and his friends hadnt really started fighting yet. Martin and his ex-wife were watching in silence as their daughters drew a picture, and Jess and her parents were shouting. Which might have been a good sign, if they were shouting about the right things, but every now and again you could hear Jess yelling the loudest about something or other, and it never seemed to be anything that would help. For example, I never touched any stupid bloody earrings.

Why dont you just wish that youd slept with the girl and got away with it? said Jess. Thats what Id wish, if I were you. I think youre still lying. Youre wishing for stuff that makes you look good.

How could you do that? You cant. Hence the expression.

How would it work now when it didnt work before? Maureen didnt say anything, so I did.

Youve never met my Cindy. Ex-my Cindy. My ex.

Oh. Did she explain how? Cindy snorted. I got the feeling that she was going to snort whatever I said, that snorting was going to be her preferred method of communication, so I knelt down to talk to the children.

Maureen was quiet for a minute.

We stopped playing the wishing game then.

Anyway, theres no chance of that. She thinks youre a right bastard.

Yeah, well. I can see that. What else? Nothing. Thats it.

How? We went down to ask her whether shed take you back. But she wouldnt. Shes shacked up with this blind geezer. Shes well sorted. Isnt she, Maureen? Maureen had the good sense to stare at her own shoes.

It was intended to be this enormous gesture, I think, a way of wrapping the whole thing up, as if the whole thing could or would ever be wrapped up. Thats the thing with the young these days, isnt it? They watch too many happy endings. Everything has to be wrapped up, with a smile and a tear and a wave. Everyone has learned, found love, seen the error of their ways, discovered the joys of monogamy, or fatherhood, or filial duty, or life itself. In my day, people got shot at the end of films, after learning only that life is hollow, dismal, brutish and short.

Youve all helped me. I wanted to help you. And I thought that was the best way.

Some of us have. I havent.

Right. And they seemed interested? They phoned back.

You got three wishes, I said.

If youd ever listened to anything Id ever said about my ex-wife, you could have saved yourself a trip. You thought shed take me back? You thought Id go back? Jess shrugged. It was worth a try.

Thats mental.

Yeah.

Ive never had to worry about money, really. I get my carers allowance, and I live in my mothers house, and she left me a little bit anyway. And if you never go anywhere or do anything, life is cheap.

I read about this on the internet, she said. Its called an intervention.

Yeah, I dunno, said JJ. Im not sure that dumping me condemns a person to eternal celibacy.

Exactly. Shes a metaphorical slapper. She dumped JJ and probably went out with someone else.

Torley Heath, said Maureen.

So youre just gonna waste two wishes? I said.

You, said Martin. Maureen. Theres nothing on the floor. Look at me.

And when she said that, I could see wed done the afternoon all wrong, and there was a much better way.

Eds flown over from America special. Ive got my mum and dad, and its not often youll catch them in the same room together, ha ha. Martins got his ex-wife, his daughters, and his ex-girlfriend. Or maybe not ex, who knows? By the end of this he might have his wife back and his girlfriend back.

So come on over and talk to him. Hed be pleased to meet you, I said. I didnt know for sure that he would be, but if youve got nothing to do but stand beside a boy in a wheelchair, then Id have thought youd be happy enough to meet a pretty woman who appears on the television. And I cant take much credit for it, because I didnt really do anything, apart from say what I said; but it was funny that so much happened because Penny walked across a coffee-bar to talk 九*九*藏*書to Stephen.

And Lizzie packed you in.

Thatd be fucking excellent.

Asking you to tell me about walking is running? Softly softly catchee monkey.

You wont tell them back at the centre, will you? I said.

How? No, well, see, I was wondering what youd say. Cos you could have wished that hed been born normal. And then you could have saved yourself all those years of clearing up shit.

OK. Agreed. Just tell me the walking part.

That wish wouldnt really solve the problem, though, would it? Id still be an arsehole. Id still get caught for something else.

Theo was beginning to annoy me.

Why in the basement? I asked her when she phoned me.

Youd still be Maureen, you stupid old trout.

And what does "real" mean, in real terms? Really? Youre becoming very difficult, Martin. If you dont mind me saying so. Youre not my easiest client at the best of times, what with one thing and another. And Ive actually been working quite hard on this project.

How much? Theyre not talking money yet.

Oi, said Jess. Where do you think youre going? Upstairs, all of you.

Ive been trying to work it out, but Im clueless.

And of course I wish Id never slept with that girl.

Hello. I leaned down to kiss Cindy on the cheek, and she moved smartly out of the way.

No, you see… Even the walking part is running. Its more, you know, tactical than that.

You dont really know much about the publishing world, do you? Not really. Only what youve told me over this lunch. Which is that people have been phoning up with substantial offers. Thats why were here, apparently.

He wanted to talk to me because hed had, he said, a substantial offer from a reputable publisher for an autobiography.

Where does Lizzie live? she asked JJ.

I see him most minutes of every day, said Maureen.

Oh, God. The others are going to be there, arent they? You think Ive got private sexual things I only want to tell you? I was hoping not.

I dont know, said Martin. Maybe I just wish that I wasnt such an arsehole.

But parents must have favourite kids, right? How could they not? How could like Mr and Mrs Minogue not prefer Kylie to the other one? Jen never thieved off of them; she read books all the time, did well at school, talked to Dad about shuffling and all those political things, never puked on the floor in front of the Treasure Minister or whatever. Take the puking, just for instance. It was a bad falafel, right? Id bunked off of school, and wed had maybe two spliffs and a couple of Breezers, so it wasnt what youd call a mental afternoon. I really hadnt been giving it large. And then I ate this falafel just before I went home. Well, I could feel the falafel coming up again as I was turning the key in the front door, so I knew that was what had made me sick. And I had no chance of getting to the toilet, right? And Dad was in the kitchen with the Treasure bloke, and I tried to make the sink, and I didnt. Falafel and Breezers everywhere. Would I have thrown up without the falafel? No. Did he believe it was anything to do with the falafel? No. Would they have believed Jen? Yes, just because she didnt drink or smoke blow. I dont know. This is what happens - falafels and earrings. Everyone knows how to talk, and no one knows what to say.

And what would you have done if shed burst into tears and said, you know, "Id love him to come back"? I would have helped you pack. And youd have fucking well done what wed told you.

The next time we met up, Jess told us all that she and Maureen had gone to see Cindy out in the countryside.

Ill tell you what really got me, though. The only proof that Martin had ever had anything to do with Cindy was us turning up in her house. Us and his kids, anyway, but they would only be proof if you took them for a DNA test and that. Anyway, what I mean is, as far as Cindy was concerned, he might as well have never existed. Theyd all moved on. Cindy had a whole new life now. On the way down, Id been thinking about how Id moved on, but all Id done was gone one train ride and one bus journey without asking Maureen about sexual positions. After Id seen Cindy, that didnt seem like such a long journey. Cindy had got rid of Martin, moved and met someone else. Her past was in the past, but our past, I dont know… Our past was still all over the place. We could see it every day when we woke up. It was like Cindy lived in a modern place like Tokyo and we lived in an old place like Rome or somewhere. Except it couldnt be exactly like that, because Rome is probably a cool place to live, what with the clothes and the ice cream and the lush boys and that - just as cool as Tokyo. And where we lived wasnt cool. So maybe it was more like, she lived in a modern penthouse, and we lived in some old shithole that should have been pulled down years ago. We lived in a place where there were holes in the walls, and anyone could stick their head through them if they wanted to, and make faces at us. And Maureen and I had been trying to persuade Cindy to move out of her cool penthouse and move into our dump with us. It wasnt much of an offer, I could see that now.

Thats where she lives! said Martin, scandalized.

Come on, be specific I suspect its something they tell themselves in order to turn the experience into something that might appear valuable, rather than a complete and utter waste of time.

OK. I wish Id been able to make my marriage work.

Yeah. Totally excellent joke.

Martin ignored her.

Thats what were saying to you. Maureen and I went down wherever it was to talk to her.

Martin sighed. Jesus Christ. Thats the only problem youve got? You cant play the piano? If I was less confused, Id have the time to play the piano.

How bout you, Maureen? I told you before. When you said Cosmic Tony could only arrange things.

Kings Cross. And before you say anything, no, she isnt a hooker.

They do it all the time in America.

Yeah, well… said Jess.

Shut up, I said.

Exactly.

Everyone seemed to be havi九九藏書ng an OK time except for me. I had a shit time. And that wasnt fair, because Id spent ages organizing that intervention parents evening thing. Id gone on the internet and got hold of the email address of the bloke who used to manage JJs band. And he gave me Eds phone number, and I stayed up until like three in the morning so I could ring him when he got home from work. And when I told him how messed up JJ was, he said hed come over, and then he phoned Lizzie and told her, and she was up for it too. And there was all sorts with Cindy and her kids, and it was like a fucking full-time job for a week, and what did I get out of it? Fuck all. Why did I think that talking to my fucking father and my fucking mother would be any fucking use at all? I talk to them every fucking day, and nothing ever changes. So what did I think would make a difference? Having Matty and Penny and all them around? Being in Starbucks? I suppose Id hoped that they might listen, especially when Id announced that wed all got together because we needed their help; but when Mum brought up that thing about the earrings, I knew I might as well have dragged someone in off of the street and asked them to adopt me or whatever.

And I ended up telling them everything. I didnt mean to. It just sort of came out. And once Id started, it didnt seem to matter much what Id told them. And then, when I got to the end of the story, I realized I shouldnt have said anything, even though they were nice about it, and said how sorry they were, and that kind of thing.

You went with her? It was her idea, said Jess.

Jess had called an extraordinary meeting for four oclock, in the vast and invariably empty basement of the Starbucks in Upper Street, one of those rooms with a lot of sofas and tables that would feel exactly like your living room, if your living room had no windows, and you only ever drank out of paper cups that you never threw away.

Ill see you later, OK? I got a number bus from the West End to Upper Street, because the money had finally run out. Wed got through the bits and pieces of money wed picked up from chat-show appearances and junior ministers, and I had no job. So even though Jess once explained that cabs are the cheapest form of transport, because they will take you wherever you want to go for free, and its not until you get there that money is needed, I decided that inflicting my poverty on a cabbie was not such a good idea. In any case, the cabbie and I would almost certainly spend the journey talking about the unfairness of my incarceration, perfectly normal thing to want to do, her fault for going out looking like that and so on. I have preferred minicab drivers for some time now, because they are as ignorant of Londons inhabitants as they are of its geography. I got recognized twice on the bus, once by someone who wanted to read me a relevant and apparently redemptive passage in the Bible.

Its not that we dont want to know, said the square one, Sean. And its not that we dont want our centre to be stuck with Matty. Its just that we dont want to feel that every time you call us up, youre in trouble.

The mad girl there seemed to think it might help in some way.

Maureen looked at her.

You can do better than that, cant you? said Jess.

See, if someone is fucked… messed up on drugs or drink or whatever, then the like friends and family, and whatever, all gather together and confront him and go, you know, Fucking pack it in. Sorry Maureen. Sorry Mum and Dad, sorry little girls. This ones sort of different. In America, they have a skilled… Oh shit, Ive forgotten the name. On the website I was on he was called Steve.

And we forgot all about it, just as we forgot all about so much that Jess said.

So what would you want back, JJ? Jess asked.

Yes, I said. Well. It must be very confusing.

As I approached Starbucks, a youngish couple walked in just ahead of me, and immediately went downstairs. Initially I was pleased, of course, because it meant that Jesss sexual revelations would have to be conducted sotto voce, if at all; but then as I was queuing for my chai tea latte, I realized that this meant no such thing, given Jesss immunity to embarrassment; and my stomach started to do what it has done ever since I turned forty. It doesnt churn, thats for sure. Old stomachs dont churn. Its more as if one side of the stomach wall is a tongue, and the other side a battery. And at moments of tension the two sides touch, with disastrous consequences.

But youve got troubles, said the square one.

Because Ive got private things to talk about.

I knew that, too. What I didnt say, because it sounded too fucking lame, was that if it were possible to rewind, Id rewind back to the last few weeks of the band, and the last few weeks of Lizzie, even though everything was fucked up. I was still playing music, I was still seeing her - there wasnt anything to complain about, right? OK, everything was dying.

Yeah, thats a coincidence, said Jess.

I havent said it often enough. I want my band back and my girl back. I WANT MY BAND BACK AND MY GIRL BACK. What do you want, Martin? He stood up. I want another cappuccino, he said. Anyone else? Dont be such a pussy. What do you want? And what good will it do me if I tell you? I dont know. Say it, and well see what we see.

He shrugged and sat down.

So come on, then. Put us out of our misery. Steve here reckons youve all got money troubles.

You had to hand it to Jess. Once she got a theme between her teeth, she was unwilling to let it go. Maureen attempted a grateful smile.

I dont know why, but it was kind of liberating, saying what you really wanted, even if you couldnt have it. When Id invented that Cosmic Tony guy for Maureen, Id put limits on his superpowers because I thought we might see what kind of practical assistance Maureen needed. And as it turned out, she needed a vacation, and we could help, so Cosmic Tony turned out to be a guy worth knowing九九藏書. But if theres no superpower limit, then you get to find out all kinds of other shit, like, I dont know, the thing thats wrong with you in the first place. We all spend so much time not saying what we want, because we know we cant have it. And because it sounds ungracious, or ungrateful, or disloyal, or childish, or banal. Or because were so desperate to pretend that things are OK, really, that confessing to ourselves theyre not looks like a bad move. Go on, say what you want. Maybe not out loud, if its going to get you into trouble. I wish Id never married him. I wish she was still alive. I wish Id never had kids with her. I wish I had a whole shitload of money. I wish all the Albanians would go back to fucking Albania. Whatever it is, say it to yourself. The truth will set you free. Either that or itll get you a punch in the nose. Surviving in whatever life youre living means lying, and lying corrodes the soul, so take a break from the lies just for one minute.

What the hell did you do that for? We thought it might help.

I never heard any more about the offer, and I have never been able to work out the point of the lunch.

What does that mean? Its real, not imaginary.

No, I dont fucking know, said Jess.

So we made a deal. They gave me the name of another centre in the area, a private one that they said was nicer than theirs, and I promised that if I was going to do away with myself, Id call that one.

Yeah, like I have fantasies about you all the time.

We winced.

Why not wish that you… Whats that one with the cake? What are you talking about? Something about eating a cake? Having it and eating it? Jess looked kind of doubtful. Are you sure thats it? How can you eat a cake without having it in the first place? The idea, said Martin, is that you get it both ways. You eat the cake, but it somehow remains untouched. So "have" here means "keep".

I put the girls down and led them over to their mother. I waved to Penny on the way, though, just so that she wouldnt feel left out.

And whats the point of the fucking cake? If youre not going to eat it? Were kind of getting off the subject here, I said. The point is to wish for something that would make us happier. And I can see why Martin wants to be, you know, a different person.

In the last few months, I have been to prison, lost every last molecule of self-respect, become estranged from my children and thought very seriously about killing myself. I mean, that little lot has got to be the psychological equivalent of cancer, right? And its certainly a bigger deal than acting in a bloody film. So how come Ive learned absolutely bugger all? What was I supposed to learn? True, I have discovered that I was quite attached to my self-esteem, and regret its passing. Also, Ive found out that prison and poverty arent really me. But, you know, I could have had a wild stab in the dark about both of those things beforehand. Call me literal-minded, but I suspect people might learn more about themselves if they didnt get cancer. Theyd have more time, and a lot more energy.

As we were leaving, Cindy was like, Id have more respect for him if he asked me himself. And I went, Ask you what? And she said, If I can help him, I will. But I dont know what he wants help with.

Why is she a slapper, precisely? I asked her. As far as we are aware, she has slept with only one man in her entire life.

MAUREEN I didnt think there was going to be very much for me to say. I mean, there wasnt really anything I could say to Matty. But I didnt think Id find anything to say to the two lads from the respite home, either. I asked them if they wanted a cup of tea, but they didnt; and then I asked whether it had been hard getting Matty down the stairs, and they said it wasnt, with the two of them there. And I said I couldnt have got him down there if there were ten of me, and they laughed, and then we stood there looking at each other. And then the short one, the one who came from Australia and was shaped like the toy robot that Matty used to have, with a square head and a square body, asked what the little gathering was all about. It hadnt occurred to me that they wouldnt know.

I want my band back, I said. And my girl. I want my band back and my girl back.

We mustnt run before we can walk.

There, now. That wasnt so hard, was it? I was joking, kind of, but no one laughed.

Jess clapped her hands together and stepped into the centre of the room.

I was momentarily distracted by the realization that there was straw underneath my feet. We were eating in a restaurant called Farm, and everything we were eating came from a farm. Brilliant, eh? Meat! Potatoes! Green salad! What a concept! I suppose they needed the straw, without which their theme would have begun to look a little short on inspiration. I would like to report that the waitresses were all jolly and large and red-cheeked and wearing aprons, but of course they were surly, thin, pale and dressed in black.

We all need help, said Maureen. We dont all know what we want.

If Jen hadnt happened to you, and, and all the other things… Like Chas and that? Exactly. Events of that magnitude. Well, who would you be? Id be someone different.

Ill be seeing him in twenty minutes if Im lucky with the bus, she said.

JJThe only trouble was, the American self-help guy didnt have the first fucking idea of how to help himself. And to be honest with you, the more I thought about the ninety-day theory, the less I could see how it applied to me. As far as I could tell, I was fucked for a lot longer than ninety days. I was giving up being a musician for ever, man, and giving up music wasnt going to be like giving up cigarettes. It was going to get worse and worse, harder and harder, every day I went without. My first day working at Burger King wouldnt be so bad, because Id tell myself, you know… Actually, I dont know what the fuck Id tell myself, but Id think of something. But by the fifth day Id be mise九九藏書rable, and by the thirtieth year… Man. Dont try talking to me on my thirtieth anniversary of burger-flipping.

They stared at her.

And that sort of reaction isnt softly softly, if I may say so. Thats noisy noisy. Tetchy tetchy, even.

On the big day itself, I had lunch with Theo - although of course while I was having lunch with Theo, I had no idea that it was going to be a big day.

Soon enough but after that? I said.

My ex-wife was called Cindy, said Martin. He was sipping a latte and reading the Telegraph, and not really listening to anything Jess had to say.

What? It was your Cindy, you doughnut.

What brings you here, then? I said.

But… He made some spluttering noises, and then stopped. Jesus Christ.

Martin snorted. You dont wish you were less of an arsehole? If Jen came back, I wouldnt be.

Everyone laughed, looked at Cindy, and then stopped laughing when they realized that laughing would have consequences.

Thats stupid. The band was rubbish. Well, she said quickly when she saw my face. Not rubbish. But not… you know.

Martin put the Telegraph down and looked at her.

Yes, hes got troubles, I said.

Well, why not just wish that you never got caught for anything ever?

After wed gone over the earring thing again, my mum goes, What do you want? So I was like, Dont you listen to anything, and she went, Which bit was I supposed to be listening to? And I was like, In my speech or whatever I said we needed your help, and she goes, Well, what does that mean? What are we supposed to do that we dont do?

I wish they could find a way to help Matty.

Thats not what she means, I said. She means, like, we are whats happened to us. So if you take away whats happened to us, then, you know...

So where is there to live in Kings Cross, then? If youre not a hooker? JJ rolled his eyes. Im not telling you where she lives, Jess. You think Im some kinda sucker? I dont want to talk to her. Stupid old slapper.

Jesus Christ, Theo.

What is she, a hooker? Ha ha. Just messing around.

What sort of private things? Sexual things.

Having lunch with Theo was momentous enough. I hadnt spoken to him face-to-face since Id come out of prison.

But it wasnt dead.

Der, said Jess.

So youre an even bigger fool than she is.

We left it there.

I felt sorry for Penny, who was still sitting on her own, so I asked her if she wanted to come to my corner.

So which of us wouldnt try to make something work now that didnt work before? Now that weve seen what the alternative is. A big fat fucking nothing.

Ill be real grouchy that day. And Ill be sixty-one years old.

Theo smiled condescendingly.

She shooed them towards the stairs, and away they went, uncomplainingly; Jess was just another incomprehensible and aggressive native of an incomprehensible and aggressive country. I sat down at my ex-wifes table, and waved towards Penny again. It was a sort of all-purpose crowded-party gesture, some kind of cross between Im just getting a drink and Ill give you a ring, with maybe a little bit of Can we have the bill, please? thrown in. Penny nodded, as if she understood. And then, equally inappropriately, I rubbed my hands together, as if I were relishing the prospect of all the delicious and nutritious self-knowledge I was about to tuck into.

Not you guys, she said. You dont have to do anything. To tell you the truth, youre only really here to bump up Maureens numbers, cos, well, I mean, she hasnt really got anybody, has she? And I thought you two and Matty would be better than nobody, see? It would have been a bit grim for you, Maureen, seeing all these reunions and standing there on your own.

She fumbled in the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a piece of paper.

With a substantial offer.

Yeah, well I know hes got troubles, said the other one, Stephen. The guy off of the TV.

Why would we tell them? Because if they found out that Id been planning to leave Matty with them for ever, they might refuse to take him again. They might think that whenever I called for you to take him, I was thinking of jumping off a roof somewhere.

"Metaphorically", I said. When someone uses the phrase the prick one, and you know immediately that this is a synonym for the word metaphorically, you are entitled to wonder whether you know the speaker too well. You are even entitled to wonder whether you should know her at all.

There was a thoughtful silence. You could tell that not everyone around the table was convinced.

And Maureens got her son Matty there, and the two guys from the care home. So heres my idea. We spend some time talking to our people, have a little catch-up. And then we swap round, and go and talk to some other persons people. So its a cross between the American thing and a school parents evening, cos the friends and family sort of sit in a corner, waiting for people to visit them.

Or less mad? Im not mad. Just, you know. Confused.

I wish Jen would come back, said Jess.

Everyone in the room heard that, and Martin and JJ and I looked at each other. None of us knew the situation with these earrings, so we didnt want to judge, but it was hard to imagine that earrings were the root of Jesss problem.

Come on, we havent got all day. Hup hup hup. Schnell. Plus vitement.

Everything, man. The band. Lizzie.

A facilitator. Youre supposed to have a skilled facilitator, and we havent got one. I didnt know who to ask, really. I dont know anyone with skills. Also, this intervention is sort of the other way round. Because were asking you to intervene. Its us coming to you, rather than you coming to us. Were saying to you, we need your help.

No, I said. Were done, really.

But what did you have to do, Theo? If, as you say, someone phoned up and offered for my autobiography, in some kind of indescribably substantial way? Well. I phoned them up and suggested they might want it.

And anyway, what does or can one ever learn, apart from times tables, and the name of the Spanish prime minister? I hope that Ive learned not to sleep with 九_九_藏_書fifteen-year-olds, but I learned that a long time ago - decades before I actually slept with a fifteen-year-old. The problem there was simply that she told me she was sixteen. So, have I learned not to sleep with sixteen-year-olds, or attractive young women? No. And yet just about everyone Ive ever interviewed has told me that by doing something or other - recovering from cancer, climbing a mountain, playing the part of a serial killer in a movie - they have learned something about themselves.

Im sure youve got plenty to talk about over there, she said.

Are you insane? he said. On whose authority did you do that? On whose authority? On my authority. Free country.

Tell everyone else.

All the time, JJ shouted. Its all we do.

Were never going to forget about the earrings. Well be talking about them on her deathbed. Theyre almost like her way of swearing. When Im angry with her, I say fuck a lot, and when shes angry with me she says earrings a lot. They werent her earrings anyway; they were Jens, and like I told her, I never touched them. She has this thing that all through those horrible first few weeks, when all we did was sit by the phone and wait for the police to tell us theyd found her body, the earrings were on Jens bedside table. Mum reckons she went and sat on the bed every night, and that she has like this photographic memory of the things she saw every night, and she can still see the earrings now, next to an empty coffee cup and some paperback or other. And then, when we started to sort of drift back to work and school and a normal life, or as close to a normal life as weve ever had since, the earrings disappeared. So of course I must have taken them, because Im always thieving. And I am, I admit it. But what I thieve mostly is money, off of them. Those earrings were Jens, not theirs, and anyway she bought them at Camden Market for like five quid.

The two nurses whod come with Matty started to look a little uncomfortable at this point, and Jess noticed.

And I always nod and smile thoughtfully, when really I want to pin them down. What did you learn from the cancer, actually? That you dont like being sick? That you dont want to die? That wigs make your scalp itch?

I dont know why, but this made me feel happy. Two men I didnt really know had told me not to call them if I was feeling suicidal, and I felt like hugging them. I didnt want people feeling sorry for me, you see. I wanted them to help, even if helping meant saying that they wouldnt help, if that doesnt sound too Irish. And the funny thing was that this was what Jess was after when she arranged the get-together. And she didnt expect me to get anywhere, and shed only asked the two young fellas along because Matty couldnt have got here without them, and in five minutes theyd made me feel better about something.

Who would I be then? Eh? I dont know who Id be.

It was about two or three weeks after the I wish conversation in Starbucks. Somehow Jess had managed to keep her trap shut - an impressive achievement for someone whose usual conversation technique is to describe everything as, or even before, it happens, using as many words as possible, like a radio sports commentator. Looking back on it, it is true that she had occasionally given the game away - or would have done, if any of us had known there was a game.

Well, youve got the best-looking chap in the place, she said. She was talking about Stephen, the tall nurse, and when I looked at him from the other side of the room, I could see what she meant. He was blond, with long, thick hair and bright blue eyes, and he had a smile that warmed the room. It was sad that I hadnt noticed, but I dont really think about things like that any more.

You went to see Cindy? Jess picked up his Telegraph, and started leafing through it, kind of a spoof on his previous lack of interest. Martin snatched the paper away from her.

So, Jess went on. Whos going to go where? At that moment, several French teenage punks appeared in our midst, carrying coffee mugs. They headed for an empty table next to Mattys wheelchair.

Perhaps a week later, she started to show a hitherto concealed interest in Lizzie, JJs ex-girlfriend.

The first person I saw at the bottom of the stairs was Matty, in his wheelchair. He was flanked by two burly male nurses, who I presumed must have carried him down, one of whom was talking to Maureen. And as I was trying to work out what had brought Matty to Starbucks, two small blonde girls came belting towards me shouting Daddy! Daddy!, and even then I did not instantaneously realize that they were my daughters. I picked them up, held them, tried not to weep and looked around the room. Penny was there, smiling at me, and Cindy was at a table in the far corner, not smiling at me. JJ had his arms around the couple whod walked in ahead of me, and Jess was standing with her father and a woman whom I presumed to be her mother - she was unmistakably the wife of a Labour junior minister. She was tall, expensively dressed and disfigured by a hideous smile that clearly bore no relation to anything she might be feeling, a real election night of a smile. Round her wrist there was one of those bits of red string that Madonna wears, so despite all appearances to the contrary, she was obviously a deeply spiritual woman. Given Jesss flair for the melodramatic, I wouldnt have been altogether surprised to see her sister, but I checked carefully, and she wasnt there. Jess was wearing a skirt and a jacket, and for once you had to get up quite close to become scared by her eye make-up.

And then, when this stuff had gone around and around in my head for a while, Id kind of stand up, mentally speaking, and say, OK, fuck it, Im going to kill myself. And then Id remember the guy we saw do exactly that, and Id sit down again feeling truly terrible, worse than when Id stood up in the first place. Self-help was a crock of shit. I couldnt help myself to a free drink.

Jess sighed.